


SAMpala

by virtualpersonal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Hot Sex, Humor, M/M, PWP, Sam Winchester as the Impala, Sampala - Freeform, Sexy Times, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:32:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3253277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam wishes he was the damned Impala, at least he might get some Dean love that way.  Short and light crack!fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://tinypic.com)  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> Co-written with Fetish

"Game? Nah, I'm gonna go take care of the car," Dean said, wondering why Sam was giving him the 'bitch face.' Deciding he'd woken up pissy and that he wasn't gonna deal with it, Dean didn't ask. Leaving the motel room door open behind him, he walked to the parking spot right in front. Sliding his hand across the body of the car as he walked, he reached the trunk and opened.

Sam turned his head, watching as Dean walked out of the room, frowning at him. Pulling to his feet with a huff after Dean walked out, Sam walked toward the door.

"Don't you worry, baby, by the time I finish polishing and waxing you, you're gonna shine so bright, I'm gonna need sunglasses," Dean chuckled as he got everything he needed out of the trunk. He barely glanced at his brother, now standing in the doorway, basically filling it with his great big sasquatch body. Rolling his eyes, he brought the bucket he'd filled with water to the car. 

Baby? Really? Sam huffed and rolled his eyes, still frowning at Dean. He really carried this love of that damn car too far sometimes. Hell, he treated that _thing_ better than he did him, his own brother! Well, then again he had to admit, he realized Dean probably didn't know that _he_ wouldn't mind being his brother's _baby_... but that wasn't the point.

Using a big sponge, Dean started to hand wash the car. It wasn't filthy, but he needed to get all the particles of dust off if he wanted that super shine that his baby deserved. He squeezed the sponge, water dripping onto the hood, and then started to sweep the sponge over it in big circles, carefully making sure he got every spot.

By the time he got to the side of the car, he decided he was hot and pulled his tee shirt off. Dropping it next to the bucket, he made short work of the doors and rims, then stood up. As he washed the roof of the car, his chest slipping against the wet window, he noticed Sam was still there... still wearing that same look. Shaking his head, he ignored his brother and concentrated on getting the car nice and clean.

Your shirt off!? Okay, now he was just being an ass. Maybe he _did_ know. Yeah, it wouldn't surprise Sam if Dean somehow had figured it out and this was his way of picking on him about it. With a huff, Sam leaned a shoulder against the door frame, still frowning at Dean and hating that damned care more and more by the second. What the hell had _it_ ever done so right to warrant such treatment from _his_ brother.

 _Well, for one thing, it doesn't want to fuck it's own brother._ Sam huffed. _Oh shut up._

Once he'd washed and dried her, he went to the back and got himself a cold brew out of the ice chest in the trunk. "Want one?" At Sam's nod, Dean moved closer and tossed it to him, then turned his attention back to his car. 

Sam had nodded hoping maybe Dean would actually walk over to him, not hurl the damned bottle at him like a friggin grenade. It was a good damn thing he was a decent catch. _Christ!_ Yeah, don't let me tear you away from your sweetheart. Sam glared down at the beer bottle as he opened it, making faces and mimicking Dean's sweet talk to the car under his breath.

As Dean started to polish with a soft cloth, he whispered about how nice and shiny she'd look once he was done. A sense of peace settled around him every time he went through the process. It was so familiar, just like breaking down a gun, cleaning and oiling it. And this car here, it was one of the few things that he owned that he couldn't bear to part with.

By the time the polishing was over, he was all sweaty. He should have waited for the sun to start going down before he started this. Oh well. He went for the wax and started polishing his car again. "This... this is gonna make you pop," he promised, the high gloss surface of the car making him grin like fool.

Sam huffed as he continued to watch his brother. "Yeah, I'd like something to pop alright," he grumbled under his breath, stuffing a potato chip, from the bag off the table, into his mouth.

When the car had the perfect mirror shine, he finally stopped. "Beautiful," he pronounced, grabbing his stuff. As he waited for Sam to make room for him in the doorway so he could get inside, he pointed. "Don't get finger prints on her."

Sam continued to frown at Dean as he walked up, his gaze tracking his brother as he stepped inside. Trying to not look like he was _looking_ at him. At Dean's finger prints comment, Sam's mouth opened, an argument about how that car wasn't gonna die if he touched it on the tip of his tongue, only to swallow it back with a huff as he stepped out of the room, slamming the door after himself. 

Walking over to the car, Sam glared down at it. "I hate you," he nodded, "which is stupid, cause you're just a hunk of metal, but I don't care. I hate you anyway," he spat, voice lowered so he wouldn't look like a complete and utter moron in case anyone were to walk past. 

Kicking the tire, Sam's lips curved into a satisfied smile as he gazed at the smudge print his boot left. "Stupid car." he muttered, turning back toward the room. "Wish I was the damn Impala. Maybe then I'd get a little attention," Sam mumbled with a huff. 

* * *

He'd taken a shower and a short nap, expecting to find Sam had brought them some dinner. Instead, Dean woke to an empty room. "Sam? Sam?" he repeated, raising his voice. When there was no answer, he sat up on the bed, leaned over to see the bathroom door was partially open. Dry scrubbing his face, he got up and walked to the door. Looking out, he saw the parking lot was empty and there was no one near the vending machine. 

Muttering under his breath, he phoned his brother. Sam wasn't picking up, but he heard the phone ringing. His head jerked up as he listened for it. His gaze focused on his car, and he strode to it. Sure enough, the ringing was from inside.

Perplexed because he was sure Sam had the phone on him, and hadn't left it in the car, he opened the door and reached in to grab it.

"Uh, Dean?" Sam asked, confusion clear in his voice. He wasn't sure what exactly was going on. One minute he had been about to walk back into the room, feeling slightly vindicated at having kicked the stupid car tires and now... well, he wasn't sure _where_ or what he was.

"Sam?" Dean's eyebrows went up as he leaned over the seat back to look for Sam. "Sam?" When he turned back, he saw the flashing orange light on his dashboard. "What the fuck is that? I am gonna kill someone," he said through clenched teeth, his worry about Sam eclipsed by the damage to his car.

"Wait, Dean! I'm right here. What's going on? Kill someone? Dude, I'm okay, I... uh, just don't exactly know where I am.... do you?"

It took a couple of seconds for things to click. "The car... you're in the car, no I mean you are my fucking car. Get out!" He frowned and ran his hand over the dashboard with the new lights. "I don't like it all douched up." He was worried, but he was a little more worried that Sam was playing a joke on him and his guess was all wrong.

"I can't get out! Believe me, I would if I could! I wouldn't want to 'douche up' your damn car! IT'S A FUCKING CAR!" Sam yelled, the horn blowing long and loud afterward. 

Dean looked around, his hand hovering over the horn, though he was on the passenger side. "Cut that out. What the hell..." He tried to think it through. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Sam thought about that. "Well, I came outside, cause you were being a jerk," he huffed, remembered kicking the Impala's tire, but was _so_ not going to mention that. "Um, I dunno I walked around a little, muttered under my breath and started to back in. That's it, why? How am I in the fucking car!? Where am I in the -" Sam stopped talking abruptly as it hit him what happened. But how? Sure he'd said it, but hell he'd said a lot of things in his life. He said once he wished they were rich too and that never happened. Wished they could have a normal life and this was about as far from normal as life could get.

"Uh, Dean... I'm not _in_ the car, I _am_ the car," he cleared his throat and the engine revved. "Oh, sorry."

"What?! Stop that... it's not good for the car!" Dean snapped, realizing the key wasn't even in the ignition. "You're... you changed into... Oh great, I'm feeling a little weirded out by the fact I'm _inside you_." Okay, he couldn't resist the joke, but he was worried and a little upset. "Theories?"

"Yeah, our lives are fucked to hell." Sam spat. "Inside... you are NOT inside me!.... well wait, I guess you are... well, kinda more like leaning on my back sort of." 

Dean stepped out of the car. "Stop arguing and start thinking. What the fuck happened here. Cursed wax?"

"No," Sam whined, "that's not it."

"A witch? The last one we ran into loved to turn people into inanimate objects... we killed her. Think there's a chance she..."

"No, I don't think that's it either." Sam sighed, "I actually think I know what happened, but... you know, I'm kinda hungry. Think we could go eat?"

"You know what happened, and you want to eat? How're you gonna eat?" Dean rolled his eyes, and slapped the roof of the car with his palm, leaning to look inside at the orange lights that jumped each time Sam spoke. "So... what is it? What the fuck happened?"

"Ow! Stop hitting me!" Sam spat just as the glove compartment flipped open knocking Dean in the head. "I dunno what that is, I can't see it. What are you looking at? What else is wrong with me?"

"Ow. Bitch," Dean bit out, touching his head. "No, I mean how did this happen? You said you know, care to share? I mean how the fuck am I supposed to help you if you..."

"No, I really don't want to tell you how it happened. You'll - you'll just get pissed, make fun of me. No. Now get in, I'm hungry." Sam grumped.

Taking a deep breath, Dean walked around the car, to driver's side, and got in. "It's still... weird," he muttered, and checked to see how much gas he had. "You gotta be kidding me... I'm half full." He ran his hand over the steering wheel, looking irritated as his eyes were drawn to the orange light again.

"So I'm half hungry." Sam mumbled, "Oh! And just so you know, you have a lard ass." 

Dean got half way up off the seat, looked behind him, and shook his head. "Shut up." Starting the car, he looked in the mirror and started to pull out of the parking stall. "I won't make fun of you, tell me what happened."

"You will, or you won't understand, think it's stupid. I just," Sam sighed, "I said something and obviously something supernatural heard me and poof here I am. Leave it at that." 

"I can't leave it at that, how am I supposed to get you back?" He was incensed at the suggestion. "What does that mean, something supernatural *heard* you?"

"I dunno... I muttered something and... it heard me. Maybe it thought it was granting me a wish or something... I dunno. STOP hitting so many damn potholes! That hurts! I'm gonna take over driving if you can't do a better job!" Sam yelled. 

"You're making my car 'grumpy'... stop it." Dean glared at the lights on the dashboard. "And I think you need to be more specific than that. What do you mean granting you a wish... you mean a wish demon?" They were rare but there was a lot of lore about them. "What the hell did you wish, Sam? Dude, I never knew you had a car fetish... especially for _my_ car."

"I don't." Sam bit out. He didn't say anything again for a long while. Long enough that he was pretty sure Dean was either going to scream or just ignore him, or hell maybe pull over and leave him there. Oh wait, he was his _'baby'_ now, guess he wouldn't leave...

"Yeah, a wish demon, Or something like it. A fairy jonesing for some fun and frolicking? Hell, I dunno. But, yeah, could be a wish demon.... uh dude..." Sam snickered, "you have a boney ass. Heavy AND boney."

"One minute it's lard, and now it's boney. I think the screws in your engine are a little loose..." Grinning, he pulled into a gas station. "Now stop talking, I don't want to look like a freak."

Getting out, he inserted some schmuck's credit card into the machine and was soon putting the nozzle into the car and starting to pump the gas. He looked around, a little self consciously and leaned into the car. 

"What are you doing?" Sam whispered, "Why are you leaning on me? And dude, the gas? It feels like I'm being fed through a straw. Yeah, I'm gettin' full, but there's not taste, no texture and I think I'm gonna burp soon..."

"I'm filling you up, what the hell you think I'm doing?" He looked at the numbers flying by and shook his head. "Stop complaining so much." Once the car was filled, he pulled the nozzle out, and used his jacket clad arm to polish over the drips on the freshly polished car.

"Really? Wiping me after you feed me? Ya gonna wipe my ass later too? Oh wait.... I think you might need to look under the hood while we're here... I feel somethin' funny." Sam told him, smirking to himself. If Dean was going to worry this damn much about his car, then while he was cursed to _be_ his car, maybe he could get a little out of it too. 

"What What do you feel? Everything should be fine... was fine." Yeah, but Dean wasn't gonna take any chances. Capping the gas tank, he went to pop the hood. Putting the bonnet up, he started to look around, using a rag he started to check the oil. He pulled the metal rod out, cleaned it and dipped it down again.

Sam gasped in a breath and moaned, the engine revving, "Mm, do - uh, do that again. I think you missed somethin'." Sam told him, feeling like Dean had just thoroghly manhandled his balls. 

"Just checking the levels," Dean answered, pulling the stick out and looking at it. "You... IT should be fine. But on the off chance that Sam was right, he dipped the stick inside again, his body pressing against the front of the car. He pulled it out. "Nah... there's enough oil. What the..." The radiator cap was steaming!

"No, don't..." the engine revved again as Sam moaned softly. "Don't stop looking. I think I need a systems check." The Impala rolled forward a little, tiny rocks crunching under the tires, making Dean lean against the car more. "There, yeah, really get in there and look around." 

"Sam..." Dean's eyes widened as he thought he was going to be driven over, but Sam seemed to be in control. "It... hurts? Alright..." This was the weirdest thing ever, and the only thing he could think of was maybe Sam was itching and didn't know how to explain it, and that the rod felt good. Still... feeling very foolish, he repeated the motions a few more times, one hand on the side of the hood, keeping him balanced. 

Not waiting for Sam to argue with him though, after a few moments, he tightened the cap, wiped away extra oil that had dripped, and started to check the water. 

"I - I hurt now," Sam whined, though his voice was huskier, deeper, "ache. I - I think you broke something."

"I didn't break anything, Sam." If the engine hadn't been hot, he might have stroked it. He fiddled with a couple of caps and tightened them, wiping everything clean as he worked. "Better?" Okay it was the weirdest conversation ever, but he thought Sam was serious now. "We'll fix you... get you out of this," he promised.

"Uh, yeah, Mm, s'okay..." though Sam's voice sounded almost pained. "I, uh, don't you have stuff, tools, you could look at me with? Don't stop yet, it still feels..." Sam cleared his throat and the engine revved again, "weird."

"Tools?" Dean let out a sigh. He knew his baby was in tip top condition, he'd taken care of her recently. Maybe Sam invading her had fucked something up? "They're in the trunk." Patting the car again, he headed for the back.

Opening the trunk, he started rummaging through the stuff, finding and opening his tool box. Grabbing a wrench, he walked back. "Stop revving the engine like that, jeez." He looked at the red light traveling back and forth across the grill of the car and almost sighed. When the hell had he turned into the Knightrider?

As soon as Dean looked back into the engine, Sam moaned long and loud, the engine revving loud and hard over and over again. Had he been able to his eyes would have likely rolled up in his head. Did headlights do that? Well, probably not seeings as this _wasn't_ a Corvette. 

"Nn - no, go back. I think you need to go back." Sam barely kept himself from shouting. When Dean didn't move, he did shout, "PLEASE!?"

"Go back... for what?" Looking at the wrench and seeing it was the right size, but he did need the smaller ones if he was going to be thorough. Dean huffed, "how the hell do you see that? I thought you couldn't see?" Leaving the wrench on the edge of the engine, Dean went to the back. As he searched around once more in the trunk, the revving started again. "Dammit, you're going to choke me with exhaust," he shouted, barely able to see what he was looking for.

"Mm, why - why don't you get in there more?" Sam asked him, voice rough, soft, "yeah, jus' climb up in there." There was a long silence between them filled only by the revving of the engine. "OhGod..." Sam groaned..."I - I think there's pie in there! There is! There's pie in the trunk! Search! Search harder! Harder!"

It wasn't like Sam knew what it would feel like if he weren't a car, but he was pretty damn sure that Dean was in his ass, and holy shit... If it wasn't for the fact that _every_ part of him was hard as steel, he was sure that his dick... whatever hunk of metal that was, would be rock hard right then. 

"The engine's idling... stop that," Dean snapped, but then he heard pie. "What pie... from where?" He leaned further, still hardly able to see because of the smoke. "It's not even my birthday... treasure hunt?" He laughed, and started to move more stuff around, barely noticing Sam wasn't answering his stream of comments and questions. "Sammy?" Palm down in the bottom of the trunk, Dean braced his weight. "You alright?" His hand slipped some, and he pulled it back. 

The entire car's suspension shook, the shocks squeeking before Sam suddenly groaned and the engined revved long and loud, oil gushed from under the car onto the ground, large squirts of it. "Oh Yeah...." Sam moaned softly as the car continued to... _tremble_? 

All at once, the engine shut off and the car stilled to a dead silent. 

"Sam? Sam?" Pulling out of the trunk, Dean walked to the front of the car. The car was off, but the red light was still traveling back and forth. "Talk to me," he said, half afraid something had gone wrong.

"Mm? Whassa matter?" Sam asked, sounding tired and nearly woozy.

Letting out a breath of relief, Dean finished up checking out the engine, and brought the bonnet down. "We gotta go back to the motel, figure out how to get you back. I don't like my cars talking to me," he said. Taking his tools to the back, he put them away in the trunk, then closed it, using his ass to half sit on it and make it close tight. 

"Sss..Ow!" Sam grumbled, but still too happy about his recent orgasm to complain too much.

Wiping his hands off, he took the driver's seat and headed back. His eyes kept straying to the orange lights which seemed to be dancing more than before. "Guess I ...fixed you, huh?"

"Huh?" Sam asked, suddenly snapping out of the happy little world he had thrown himself into, nearly humming, _if_ a car could do that. Of course, the engine was purring most happily as they drove. "Fixed me?" he cleared his thoat and the engined revved a bit, the accelorator lowering under Dean's foot on it's own. "Um, yeah, guess so," he replied nervously, feeling rather self conscious suddenly. If he could, he'd be looking out the side window to hide his face. As it was, he WAS the side window... and the front window, and the seat and the dashboard and... Sam huffed, falling into a silent brooding.

"Don't go depresso-boy on me, I promised you we'd get you back," Dean said, his brows furrowing. "It could have been worse. You could have gone evil... now that's always a hard one to deal with. Now you have a nice sleek body, and your engine's purring... road is out ahead of you, what else could you want? Plus, I'm here to take care of you. You could have ended up like one of the cars in a junk yard..." 

"No, no I couldn't. It wasn't what I asked for." Sam huffed, "Nevermind. Jus' - jus' drive." He sighed and the heater kicked on. "Dammit." 

He took it for as long as he could, punching the buttons on the dash to try to turn the damned heater off, but he couldn't take it. "Sam.... cut it out." He had the window rolled down, but the outside air wasn't cooling the inside fast enough. The silence got to him. "Sam... seriously, this? It's not my fault, so stop giving me the damned silent treatment."

Sam sighed and it made the damn engine rev again. "It is your fault actually," he mumbled, just before the heater turned off. "Sorry 'bout the heater," he grumbled. 

"My fault? Just how the fuck is it my fault?" He demanded, pulling into the motel lot. "I was minding my own business taking a shower and a nap."

"Nothing," Sam mumbled, "just forget I said anything. It's fine. You're right. It was me."

He knew Sam well enough to realize he was probably wearing his bitch face and sliding into his 'pout mode.' Shifting gears, he slowed, and pulled into the spot right in front of their room and cut the engine. "I'll do the research and let you know what I come up with."

He didn't expect an answer... and didn't get one. 

*

A half hour later, Dean was deep into his research. He had a cup of java and was determined to find a way to get his brother back. And his old dashboard back. He was driven to find answers, but first he had to distinguish between information and misinformation. The net was rampant with both.

Sam sat... no was _parked_ just outside the door to their room, but it wasn't like he could even see Dean, didn't have anyone to talk to. Nothing to do besides listen to the sounds of his engine cooling and wondered briifly if it was anything like 'listening to ones arteries hardening', not that a person could really do that... still, it was just as annoying.

After another few moments, Sam shouted, which was nothing more than the horn blowing... loudly.

Apparently he could _talk_ , but loud bouts of shouting came out as the horn blowing or some other damn car function. He sighed and the engine cranked trying to turn over. "Oh just stop it already," he mumbled to his new metallic body. Now he thought he had a pretty good idea how a Transformer would feel, if they were real. Of course, even _they_ could transform into something close to human. _He_ was stuck... like this. Alone. The horn blew again. "Deeeean..." Sam whined softly before falling into silence once more.

At the second horn, Dean raced out, pulling his jacket on and then stumbling to a stop near the car. Nothing. There was nothing. "What the fuck?" He opened the passenger door and looked in. "What's the matter?" 

"I'm lonely." Sam pouted.

"You're what? Lonely," Dean sliced his hands though the air, turned around and went back inside. What the hell. This time, he left the door open so he could see the car. Wish demons... he better get Sam back soon, or little brother was gonna drive both of them nuts. 

The engine turned over and Sam started to creep closer to the door, front tires rising up over the sidewalk and then across it as he slowly pulled closer. "Dean? Talk to me."

"Sam! You can't do that!" Pushing the lap top away, Dean walked out and looked around. "Get back," he hissed. "You know better. I'll be out here as soon as I get an answer... just... backup like a good little car."

Sam started slowly backing up into the parking space again. "But, I don't have anyone to talk to. I'm bored," he huffed and the engine revved, tires squealing on the sidewalk just before they pulled off of it, bouncing as they hit the asphalt. 

"Well listen to the fucking radio. I'm not sitting on my thumbs, I'm researching," Dean answered, giving the hunk of metal... his hunk of metal a stern look. "And no climbing sidewalks... its not good for you... the car... argh, you know what I mean." 

Turning on his heels, Dean went back to his research. Three more times, after that, Sam honked, had him come checking, until he was so frustrated, he brought the lap top to the car, sat on the hood and did the damned research there. Good think it was getting dark, or the sun's glare would be making this impossible. 

Sam was silent for a long moment, just sitting there, or parked there, or _whatever_ , glad to finally have some company, even if Dean wasn't speaking to him. "Dean? Are you mad at me?"

"Irritated. That's different," he scrolled down, biting his lower lip.

Sam was silent another long while. "M'sorry." He fell silent another minute. "Um, you know you're sitting on my chest, right?" 

"On your..." Dean got up. "No, I didn't know that. Was I performing open heart surgery earlier," he asked with a laugh. Moving around the car, he sat in the driver's chair, legs still out of the car.

"Mm... I don't think so." Sam answered, remembering the feelings and the way he had actually cum. Cum... as a car. Yeah, if that wasn't friggin weird as hell, he didn't know what was. Well, okay he did, this entire situation was friggin _weird_ with a capital 'W'. Sam cleared his throat and again the engine revved. "Sorry, you're just..." he snickered and the hood popped open. He giggled. "You're tickling me. Sitting on, I dunno... my hip maybe?"

"You don't have a hip." Rolling his eyes, Dean tried to keep it serious. This was serious! "Huh, okay, so it looks like most people are in agreement that wish demons are not dangerous. Well, that's relative, at least they don't intentionally kill. They're more about teaching a lesson. Now, the lesson is different depending on the demon." He looked over at the orange lights on the dash. "Kinda like shapeshifters, I guess, their motives aren't the same."

"Uh-huh..." Sam mumbled, tires starting to roll slightly forward and back, making Dean teeter totter on the bench seat, as Sam enjoyed the sway and weight of Dean on him.

"Stop fidgeting." Dean rolled his eyes. "Sometimes the lesson is that the 'grass is always greener on the other side'... teach the person they don't really want what they think they want." He glanced again at the lights. "Did you wish for _speed_ or... heh heh... beauty." His car was both those things. 

"No, and fuck you." Sam spat back.

"Other times its sort of a training... trying to get the person brave enough to face their desires. Desires? Huh, anyway... you get the drift. Sounds like the spell wears off once the lesson is learned."

"Wait, what do you mean, 'brave enough to face their desires'? So I gotta..." Sam clammed up, not saying another word, the only sound that of the wooshing light on the front of the car.

Dean wiped his hand over his face. "Gotta what? Makes no sense, huh? I'll keep looking, maybe there's a way of reversing it without having to do whatever the crazy wish demon wants." He patted the steering wheel, hoping to comfort Sam. "I'm gonna go get something to eat."

"Eat something for me too, huh?" Sam asked him, adding in a more dejected tone. "Just... because..." he sighed and the engine revved again. "Would this thing stop!" Sam nearly yelled making the horn blow. "Pull a spark plug, cut some wires, do _something_!"

He'd been starting to pull out of the car, and startled, Dean hit his head on the door frame and cursed. "Would you cut it out? It's not the car Sam, it's you." He laid an arm across the roof of the car and shook his head. "Come on, give the engine a rest. I'll be back soon." Setting the lap top on the roof, he closed it and prepared to walk away. 

He didn't want to be left alone again, didn't want to sit out there with nothing but the sound of crickets, his own damn engine and Dean's greatest hits of mullet rock to keep him company. "Wait!" Sam called to him, "I - I think you missed something... before. Um, maybe you should take a look for me again. At the engine, maybe... and you could get your tools from the trunk."

"Engine's fine, Sammy, I looked. I checked very carefully, you're gonna be fine," Dean said. "Just sit tight."

Water bubbled and hissed seeping out of the hood of the car, running down the side as Sam gave a long lengthy, very fake, groan. "No, I'm not." Sam supposed this was a car version of forcing onces self to throw up, but he couldn't be sure. More water bubbled and grurbled out, splashing over the side of the front fender to hit the ground with a smack as the car lurched forward and back. "See? I'm siiiick," he whined.

"Alright, I'll take a look _under_ you. Oh God that sounds vaguely dirty," he muttered more to himself as he went to the trunk and pulled out some of his tools and a roller to lay on. As the revving continued, he shook his head. "You know I can't check you out if you keep the engine on, right?"

_Oh yeah, don't stop. Just stay back there a while._

"Huh? What?" Sam asked, just before the car took off forward, front tires going up and over the sidewalk before it came to a screeching halt. "Oh, sorry. Um, I think you missed something in the trunk." 

"Missed something? You know if you can't control yourself, you're gonna end up running over me." He looked at the open trunk. "What did I miss?" Glancing inside, he moved some of his stuff around, but none of the tools he needed was loose or anything. His car was going senile...

Moving to the side, he snapped. "Cut the engine. Now."

"But, I-" Sam sighed and the engine revved, before he cut it off, waiting silently. Hearing Dean's foot steps behind him, Sam mumbled out, "Sorry, Dean." 

"Just... keep it under control." He knew he was doing this for nothing, but he also knew if their situations were reversed, Sam would do everything he could to make him feel better. And who knew, maybe there was something wrong under the car... no harm would come from checking before it got too dark.

Getting down and laying back on the roller, he grabbed the flashlight. Sam couldn't see, but Dean had a worried look as he moved under the car. "Remember, don't kill me..."

"I won't." Sam told him, the ting ting of the engine cooling ringing in his ear. Ears... like a car had ears...

"Okay." Under the car, Dean studied the engine, running his hand along rough metal parts as he searched for anything that seemed out of place. "Huh," he rubbed the metal and looked at his fingertips. "Looks like there might be an oil leak," he said, perplexed.

"O-oil?" Sam asked, "um, yeah, I dunno about that. Maybe run your hand along that same area again... slower." Sam wasn't really sure where Dean was rubbing, his groin? Maybe somewhere else, all he knew was that it felt fuckin' good. Kinda weird, but good. And he was getting excited again. 

"I am," he answered, moving his thumb over the area. "Don't see a hole... what the?" He moved his hand in widening circles, hoping his sense of touch would show him something he wasn't seeing, it made no sense. "Did you say 'slower?'" Shaking his head, Dean complied, still finding nothing but a little bit of unexplainable oil. "Did you hit the bottom when you climbed the sidewalk?"

Sam found it hard to talk right then, feeling as though Dean was massaging every fucking eroginous zone he had at once. "Hm? Yeah..." Sam panted out, "maybe. Don't stop looking."

"I'm not... but why don't you know." How the hell didn't he know? Bet Sam had hit the bottom, and wasn't admitting it. Finding some sort of crack, he started exploring it, then figured out it wasn't a crack but something stuck to the car. Now he tried to clean it off, applying more and more pressure.

The engine roared to life revving long and loud before the trunk popped open, the back shocks starting to bounce up and down. "Yeah, yeah, right there... just like that... like that..." Sam panted, the horn blowing loud just before great squirts of oil spurt from the car, splattering out in large glops. "Oh YEAH!"

"OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!" Dean shouted, pushing out from under the car. He didn't know whether to fear for his life, be embarrassed about all the sounds the car was making and drawing attention, or be disgusted by the oil splattered all over his face! He wiped at it, complaining profusely. "It's the last time I'm checking anything under you... sonova... if you could see my face, dammit Sam." He strode to the back and roughly pushed stuff out of the way in the trunk as he put all the tools away, still cursing. 

Sam gasped, the car rocking on it's shocks. "Dean, Dean, stop... too much... too sensitive..." Sam gasped, panting, the engine still revving.

"Huh?" With his head deep in the trunk, he hadn't heard the words coming out of the radio speakers. Shrugging, he continued, then closed it. "Now you behave, alright? I gotta wash this oil off... and then I'm getting dinner and a freakin' drink... you'd need one too if your car talked to you and ... yah."

He strode inside the motel room and slammed the door shut.


	2. Chapter 2

An hour later, he parked Sam outside a bar. "Stop being a pain in the ass, Sam. I need to eat." _Drink, flirt, get away from you for a while._ He shut the engine off and pocketed the keys.

"But, I don't want to be here. I don't wanna be alone... and this Toyota is scary looking," Sam complained. 

"Now you can see the Toyota? Shut up Sam." Closing the door behind him, Dean headed into the bar. He sat down rubbed his eyes and ordered food and a beer. "Thanks sweetheart," he said, giving the waitress a wink."

A half hour later, he'd wolfed down his food, and was drinking... relaxing and flirting. The place wasn't half bad, it had a nice atmosphere. A couple of times, he found himself wanting to make a comment to Sam, just to see his bitchface, but then he'd remember. He hoped this thing wore off soon.

Sam got tired of sitting, parking, whatever, there in front of the bar fast. He had no one to talk to and some big nasty biker had run his fingertips over his hood, making him shudder. It was gross, no it was beyond gross. He was bored, grossed out and lonely. The car's horn blew loud and long. When nothing happened, Dean didn't come out of the bar, the horn blew again louder and longer than the first time. "Deaaan!"

By the time Dean came outside, he was getting a lot of dirty looks. Putting both hands on the hood of the car, Dean leaned in and spoke to the front windows... never mind who was watching. "What the hell's the matter with you, Sam? Told you I was gonna have a couple beers, now cut this out."

"People are touching me!" Sam hissed back.

"People are? Oh, the hell... Just... chill out, stop honking, and stop being a nuisance." Dean took a step away.

"Dean!" the car honked again, "don't leave me, dammit! This isn't funny! There are parts of me I don't want other people touching!" Sam grew quiet, "Just... trust me. Next time you wax this thing, don't spend so much time on certain areas. It's... sexual." He cleared his throat and the engine revved. "Believe me."

Sam was sick and tired of being the damn car. Fine, if he had to tell Dean why he had done this, what had happened, then fine. He would, he'd do anything not to have to be a hunk of metal anymore. Not to have strangers run their hands over him, or spit shine him. What the hell was up with that!? WHO spit shines another person's car!? "Dean, please, I'm begging you, don't leave me here."

His brother was sounding crazy, but yeah, maybe if you were stuck in the body of a car, you slowly went crazy. Letting out a deep breath, Dean turned, came back and got inside. "Fine. Just remember, you owe me one," he said, starting the car.

Back at the motel, he knew Sam wouldn't let him get any sleep if he left. He talked for a while, a little pissed that Sam was giving him short answers. Well what the hell did he want him around for if he wasn't going to at least give him some conversation. Eventually, he leaned his head back, one hand on the gear shift. "Tired," he said.

"Fine." Sam mumbled, still sore about Dean's damn 'you owe me one' comment. Owed him one. Maybe if he wasn't such an ass so in love with his car, Sam never would have made this stupid wish in the first place. _No, you wouldn't have made the wish, if you weren't jealous and wanting to fuck your brother._ Sam sighed internally at himself. _Oh shut up!_

"Fine, what?" Dean forced his eyes open.

"Nothing. You're tired. Go to sleep." Sam grumbled.

"Night, Sam." The things he did for his brother.

*

Some time during the night, Dean slid down on the chair, his head laying on the passenger side, body curled up, trying to fit in the small space. His hand was still curled around the gear lever, like he was hanging on for dear life, sometimes squeezing it when his dreams had him tensing.

The engine was running, again. The grip Dean had on the gear lever felt to Sam like Dean was holding Sam's cock in his hand, squeezing him, sliding sometimes along it's length, like when his hand slipped back down to the bench. Now, as Dean turned to the side, it felt as if Dean was laying draped across his, he didn't even know... hips, maybe? Holding onto his friggin dick like it was his damn security blanket. Sam moaned low, a soft near groan. "Mm, feels so good..." his words came out whisper soft. The engine revved again.

Strange dreams. He was dreaming Sammy had gotten trapped behind a door, a metal door, and he couldn't get him out. "Sam..." He gripped the handle, tugging on it, trying to free him. "Sammy," he muttered, pulling some more, then trying to find some other spot his fingers could grip. "Need..." He needed an axe.

Sam's breaths grew heavier, the car bouncing and swaying on it's shocks, engine revving over and over again. "Yeah... need... me too..." 

"Fuck." Dean shouted, getting angry as the door wouldn't budge. He started to try the knob again, but it was like someone had put vaseline over it and it was slippery. His fist kept twisting around it, unable to get a good grip. "Sam... oh God... suck." This really did suck, he just wanted his brother out.

Sam gasped in a breath, the hood popping open, "Yes, oh God, yeah, suck it. Please, ohmygod..." Sam could only imagine what that would feel like, having his brother's soft looking full lips wrapped around his.... yeah, okay, it was his gear lever, still... at the moment, it was the same damn thing. Stop laughing! The trunk popped open then, just before the horn blew.

Dean jacknifed up, hand going for the gun in the waist band of his pants before he realized... nothing happened. It was Sam. Again. "What the hell? This time you have no excuse, none," he shouted, opening the door and getting out. "You said to stay with you, I did... and you do this? Now you turn that engine off and stop blowing that horn. You got that, or I'll work it so you can't blow the damned thing." Slamming the door shut, he started walking toward the room.

The Impala's engine shut off. There was a long silence before the passenger door opened and Sam pulled from the car, his gaze on the closed motel room door. With a sigh, he walked around the car, closing the trunk then the hood, before turning and walking toward the motel room door. Slowly raising his hand, Sam reached for the door knob. Stepping into the room, Sam gave a small sheepish smile. "I - we should talk." Sam cleared his throat, hanging his head, hoping like hell that the damn erection he was still sporting didn't show.

"Sam!" Dean shot off the bed and grabbed his brother, hugging him close. "Don't get used to it, I'm going to kick your ass next." Clapping him on the back, he let go of him. 

Sam hugged his brother back, turning his head so he could breathe in his brother's scent, nose pressed against his neck. "Yeah, I kinda figure you will." Sam told him softly.

"Glad you agree." He tried to pull away but felt Sam still holding him. "You can let go now."

Sam shook his head slightly, nose still pressed against his neck, "No... I can't. Don't want to."

"Huh? Sam, let go." His eyes widened as he felt Sam press closer. "What's going on... something else happen? Did you damage the car?" He started to pull away with more force, anxious to see his baby.

Sam held tighter. "Car's fine. I'm not though," Sam told him softly a soft moan escaping, hot breath against his brother's neck.

"You look fine, you're fine. Sammy?" His brother hadn't clung to him like this since he was a kid and Dean had no idea what to make of it. He did stiffen at the sound of the moan. Nah... "Alright, let go and tell me what's wrong."

Sam's arms wrapped around his brother slid slightly lower, hands pressing Dean closer. "You can't tell?" Sam asked him, burying his face more against Dean's neck. "It's why I became the car, why I'm me again. It was the wish demon. I have to face my desires."

"Yeah?" Dean waited, trying to understand. "Sammy, tell me." He'd asked him to tell what the wish was that the demon had granted, but Sam had been cagey about it. "You want my car?" Maybe he'd gotten attached to it while Dean had been in hell. "You... you know everything that's mine, it's yours too. Even if I act like it isn't," he said. "Been letting you drive her more." And still, his brother's grasp on him didn't loosen.

"No," Sam shook his head slightly, keeping his face buried. After another few minutes, Sam took a deep breath, slowly pulling his head up to look into Dean's face. He licked his lips and tried to think how to best tell your brother that you wanted them. "You, uh, you remember when you were in my trunk? When you were under me? Touching me?"

"Touching the car... yeah, I remember. You kept thinking something was wrong back then too, nothing was wrong with the car Sam. Nothing's wrong with you." He felt something crackling between them like electricity, his eye sought Sam's out again and he cocked his head.

Sam shook his head slowly. "Would you want to do it again? Touch me?" he licked his lips, hazel eyes searching green, "be," he cleared his throat, internally bracing for the punch, "inside me."

"You want to be the Impala?" Dean's eyes widened. "You... Sam, this isn't funny. Seriously, dude, let go." He wondered if Sam had found out somehow how he'd felt before Sam went off to college. It had taken Dean the entire two fucking years to re-train his brain and his body not to think of his brother sexually. He'd gone with every girl he could, forced Sam out of his mind each time he jacked off, and somehow he'd done it. 

Sam continued looking into Dean's eyes, unflinching. "I'm not laughing."

"Did you find my letter?" He was panicking... no Sam couldn't have found it, the letter he'd written so long ago and never sent. He had no idea where it had gone, and he'd told himself he must have tossed it into the trash or something. He'd written it when he was drunk. "That what this is about?"

Sam frowned at him and now it was his turn to cock his head in confusion. "Letter? What letter?" he huffed and pulled an arm from around his brother, still holding onto him with the other as he ran his free hand through his hair with an exasperated sigh. "Dammit, Dean,I'm trying to tell you that I was jealous of your stupid car, alright!?" Sam spat, "And then I was dumb enough to wish it was me that you were being like that to, and... and..." He blinked and pulled away from his brother, turning on his heels to pace away. "Nevermind."

"Sam... Sam come back here. Come on, you can't lay that on me and expect me to catch up..." He ran his hand over his jaw, watching Sam pace, wondering how it could be true. "Of my time... you mean the _time_ I spend on my car, that's what you were jealous of." His heart was banging against his chest. Of course it couldn't be anything else... no fucking way.

Sam nodded as he paced, "The time, sure," he allowed. "Time, attention," he stopped pacing to look at Dean, "the _love_ you give that," he pointed toward the window, the car out side, "hunk of metal and not," he pointed at himself now," _me_!" Sam told him, voice raising. He started to pace again, head bowed, shaking it. "I mean, I know it's fucked up, I know it and I've been trying like hell to just ignore it, just let it go, but then I was cursed due to my own stupid big mouth and I had to come to terms with facing my desires." He stopped pacing, his gaze laser focused on Dean's face. "Well, here I am, facing them," he held his arms out.

"Desires. You want..." One by one, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Sampala getting him to go into his trunk and into his engine for a dozen nonexistent reasons. The revving of the engine, the honking, the shaking. The oil... His chest rose and fell. "You... you came on my face! Anywhere else might have been fine but..."

Sam's chest was rising and falling with his rapid breaths having worked himself up about this. He stared at his brother for a few moments before finally tearing his gaze away to look at the floor. "Well, that was an accident. I didn't know your face was... _there_." He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look back up.

He was still trying to come to terms with this. "Sammy... I don't get one thing. Overnight, suddenly you just... want this? What if it's another kind of demon, making you want this?"

Sam shook his head, lips pressed together tightly, "No, s'not over night. Been a while now." He gave another nod, "I wish it was a demon, I really do, but," he shook his head. "It's not. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." Dean put his hand out. "Sam... you _sure_ about this?"

Sam tore his gaze from his brother's face to look down at the offered hand, then back up. He gave a nod, jaw clenched. "Yeah, I am." He swallowed and started to reach for Dean's hand only to pause. "You aren't gonna hit me... are you?"

"No." Dean took a few steps, then put an arm around Sam, pulling him into his embrace. "No, not gonna hit you. Gonna get your engines revving. Gonna have you honking, and squirting..." He started to lean in for a kiss, then stopped. "What part of you was the damned gear lever?"

Sam smirked and ducked his head, looking up at his brother from under long bangs and his brows. "Uh, I dunno if you're ready for that knowledge yet." He cleared his throat and swallowed.

"Yeah...maybe we should talk about that later." He pulled Sam with him, backwards to the small sofa, pulling him down over his lap. "So, what do you think? Shall I take you for a spin, Sammy?"

Sam leaned in, his lips near Dean's. "Motors already revved," he told him softly. "Kiss me?"

"You bet." There was only a split second of hesitation, before Dean brought their mouths together. At first, it was a tentative kiss. He was surprised to find his brothers lips so soft, yet firm and well defined under his mouth. He sucked Sam's bottom lip, pulled back, looked into his eyes to make sure they were still on the same page, before slanting his mouth over Sam's again, this time pushing his tongue into his brother's mouth, stroking his palet, his tongue, and exploring every corner. His arms tightened around Sam, pulling him closer as he groaned softly. He'd dreamed this... years ago... he'd dreamed this. Maybe it was his own wish coming true.

Sam moaned into the kiss, kissing his brother back, tangling their tongues together, giving as good as he got as he wrapped his arms around Dean, fingertips digging into his brother's back as he held onto him tightly, like he might wake up and find this too another damned dream. Only this seemed better than any dream he could remember, he could taste Dean, smell him, actually _feel_ him under his hands, the warm wet heat of his mouth crushed to his own. Kissing harder, Sam moved his head from side to side, one hand rising to cup the back of Dean's head, digits tangling in the short soft golden brown strands.

Dean broke the kiss in order to drag in a few much needed breaths. "You smell like you, and the Impala's engine... any idea how fucking sexy that is?" Expecting to get a bitch face or a retort, he pushed Sam back against the arm of the sofa, leaning over him and bring his mouth down once again. This time, his tongue immediately penetrated Sam's, searched out his tongue and started a controlled dance. His hands were free to roam over his brother's body, to touch him in ways he never had before. 

It was on the tip of Sam's tongue to tell Dean that he really knew how to break the mood, to glare at him and huff, only he never got the chance before he was pushed back and was moaning into his brother's mouth, arms wrapping back around him.

Dean pushed Sam's tee shirt up, moved his hands under, kneading his stomach, his chest... learning how he felt. His mouth slipped to Sam's ear. "Feel so good, bro. So damned good."

"Mmm... yeah..." Sam answered breathlessly, his breaths coming him faster, heavier as he ran his hands over his brother's back, down to his ass, cupping his ass in his hands, pressing him down as Sam lifted his hips, moaning softly. 

The pressure on his ass had Dean grinding his hips down over Sam's, groaning as their hard cocks slid together. He moved his mouth back and forth, kissing Sam, committing his taste to memory, loving how his brother clung to him, pulled him closer. His hand lingered over the side of Sam's chest, occasionally he'd pinch his nipple and rub his thumb over it, loving his brother's reactions. He _really_ needed to get the shirt off.

Sam panted and moaned, arching and thrusting against his brother, hands roaming over his back, up to his hair and down, grasping his ass again, pressing Dean against him as he writhed and bucked, face flushed, eyes passion glazed.

Lifting up, Dean pulled on Sam's tee, tossing it on the ground the instant his brother lifted his arms. Then he pulled his own shirt up, tossing it on the floor too before helping Sam get his long legs up on the short couch, and laying down on top of him, welding his mouth over his brothers for another long, heated kiss.

Sam ran the tip of his tongue along the roof of his brother's mouth, tangled it with Dean's own tongue, moans sounding deep in his throat only to be swallowed up in the kiss, hips bucking more frantically, hands running over Dean's form possessively.

"Mmm, so good," Dean muttered, loving how Sam was touching him everywhere, not at all shy or hesitant. The way he was rubbing against him... fuck, he could feel Sam's arousal, hard and hot against his jeans. God, he wanted the pants gone, wanted everything that separated them off. Lifting up, straddling Sam's thighs, he ran his hand down the center of his chest, "Vrrroooom. Beep... beep," he added, squeezing Sam's cock over his jeans, and starting to unbutton them, a smirk playing on his lips.

Sam's passion glazed eyes focused on Dean's face, frowning, brows furrowed in confusion, breaths panting out through parted lips, cheeks flushed. "Wha?" Sam asked breathlessly, "Did-" he frowned harder. "Dude, did you just beep at me?" He blinked at his brother as though he had just lost his mind. Reaching up Sam cupped each side of Dean's head. "New rule... you're not allowed to talk," he said breathlessly as his head lifted off the arm of the love seat, mouth slanting over Dean's.

He didn't even get the chance to argue he hadn't been talking, all he knew was that Sam's mouth was against his, and little brother was damned demanding. They kissed as he undid Sam's jeans and pushed them down to his thighs. His hand brushed against Sam's rock hard cock, coming back to grasp it in his fist. He squeezed, and slowly started to stroke up and down, much like he would when he was jerking himself off. 

Sam gasped, their lips pressed together, but no longer totally kissing. Their breaths panting out into one anothers' mouths. "S'good, Dean..." Sam mumbled, pressing in, tongue flicking between his lips to lap at the interior of his mouth as low moans and soft groans breath from deep in his throat, hips thrusting his cock into his brother's hand.

Sam's hands moved, reaching between them, frantically unfastening Dean's jeans, nearly busting the zipper in the process. Once he got the denim open, Sam slid his hand inside, under the cotton of Dean's boxers, long fingers wrapping around his brother's shaft, stroking him.

As warm fingers closed around him, a jolt of white hot heat went through Dean, making him groan with pleasure. Years ago, he'd wanted this so bad, thought about it, dreamed about it... jacked off to it. But it had been nothing like this. The real thing ... it rocked Dean's world off its axis. Kissing Sam one more time, he lifted up, sitting on his thighs, moving his fist up and down his shaft, eyes locked with Sam's. He loved how his brother's lips parted, how he gasped for air. Loved how his cheeks were flushed, and the way his gaze constantly dropped down to watch what he was doing with his hand. 

Using his thumb, Dean brought both their cocks together. While Sam held them together at the base, Dean stroked and squeezed them together, loving how hard Sam's dick felt against his. "This... were you thinking about it... when you were the car?" Dean asked thickly. "Or what were you thinking about. When you came on my face?"

Sam gave a small breathy chuckle, as his gaze darted up to Dean's from where he had been looking watching their hands slide along their cocks. He licked his lips, "Uh, I -"he swallowed as a moan broke from his throat, "I thought about you touching me, you're mouth on me," he answered softly, "about you _inside_ me." A deep groan tore from Sam's throat as his head fell back, neck arched.

" _Inside_." Dean's body hummed with excitement. "That why...." he bit his lower lip and threw his head back as a way of pleasure when through him. "Why you kept sending me to the trunk?"

Sam's lips quirked into a small smile before his lips parted, tongue darting out to lick his lips. Lifting his head he bit his lip. "Mm, yeah." He smiled, lips parting once more as a moan tore from is throat. Hips bucking his cock into his brother's fist harder.

"Thought I was nuts cause I thought you said for me to crawl inside," he smiled back, increasing the pressure. They stayed like that for a while, gazes locked, both their hands around both their cocks, exchanging soft moans. Dean abruptly got up and off the couch, pushing his jeans all the way down and stepping out of them. He reached for the bottom of Sam's jeans and in one hard tug, had them off his brother. He stripped his shorts off too, then lowered his weight over Sam's. "Gonna make your engine purr, just like my baby's," he whispered in Sam's ear, then moved his mouth over Sam's, kissing him hungrily. Fuck... it was so good between them. Just like everything else they did together, fighting, talking, finishing each others' sentences.

He started to kiss Sam's throat, one hand stroking his chest hard, he couldn't get enough. "Never done this... with a guy. But you make it so fucking easy, Sam," he whispered, sliding his leg between Sam's, clamping his own around one of Sam's as he fucked against him, the pressure building low in his belly. 

Sam shook his head as he looked at his brother, lips parting breaths panting, chest rising and falling heavily with each one, his face flushed. "Me neither," he swallowed hard, hips thrusting up to grind against his brother as his head rose from the arm of the love seat, his mouth against Dean's neck, biting hard, then licking away the sting, sucking the sensitive flesh into his mouth, moaning softly.

This felt good, so fucking good, but Dean wanted more... especially after what Sam said earlier. "I wanna... I wanna drive you," he said, giving his brother a look, "park in your garage..." He knew he was asking for it, but hell... how could he resist making fun of their situation....Sam turning into his car ... getting off to his fiddling with the engine. It was just a goldmine for jokes.

Sam slowly pulled his head back from Dean's neck as he started talking, giving him a look that nearly screamed how _not_ funny he was. "That's it," Sam grunted out as he turned slightly at the waist, under his brother, reaching down off the love seat onto the floor, long digits hooking one of his socks.

Bringing it up, he rather unceremoniously shoved nearly the entire sock in Dean's mouth. "No talking," Sam told him, "your gas cap's missing and you're spilling all over the floor, ruining the mood." Sam told him, giving his brother a pointed look before slowly starting to dip his head again to Dean's neck.

Dean spit the damn sock out and moaned as his brother found his sensitive spot. He cupped the back of Sam's head, making sure he concentrated on that spot, between his collar bone and his ear. Between that and the rubbing of their cocks, Dean was quickly reaching the point of no return. "Get on your knees, here," he said, moving off Sam and helping him face the back of the couch. 

Grabbing Sam's hand, he put it on Sam's cock and helped him stroke. "Don't stall out, I'll be right back," he whispered against his ear, getting off the sofa and heading for his duffel bag.

Sam frowned, even as he slid his hand up and down his hard cock, turning to watch his brother. _Stall out... Pfft!_ If he said one more car term Sam was gonna scream. It wasn't _his_ fault he'd been turned into a car. Well, okay, maybe a little his fault... but still. 

Tearing his gaze away from Dean, Sam hung his head as he stroked his hard length, hips bucking his cock into his own fist, low moans working out of his throat. "You better hurry up," Sam told him breathlessly, head tilting back as he stroked himself faster, harder.

"Right here," Dean said, getting on the couch, kneeling behind Sam and kissing his throat. For a moment, he watched Sam working himself and ended up proving himself wrong... yes, he could get harder. His cock nudged against the cleft of Sam's ass, rubbing up and down, making Dean want so badly to just push inside.

Heart banging against his chest, need riding him like her bitch, he managed to pull back and push some of the petroleum jelly from their first aid kit into Sam's hole. He worked it in slowly, then started to use two fingers, his mouth moving over Sam's lower back and ass cheeks... kissing and licking. 

Sam sucked in a gasp as Dean's fingers touched him where no one ever had before. Well, other than when he was a car, but that didn't count... did it? If it did, it certainly didn't help the fact that he was starting to tense up, his hand stuttering over his cock as he stroked himself as low groans and gasps broke from his throat. He turned his head to try to see, only to turn it back, hanging it as he panted out his breaths, and then Dean's lips were there, at his lower back, against his ass making Sam writhe and moan, relaxing him more, making his cock surge and pulse in his hand.

"Relax..." Dean crooned, taking his time, soothing his brother with his mouth even as he invaded him with a third finger. Pushing inside, he curled his middle finger and found the gland he was looking for. He stroked it a few times, noting Sam's movements and the sounds he made, knowing he was doing it right. 

Sam nodded. _Relax_. Yeah, he was trying. Pushing back against the fingers in his ass, and thrusting into his fisted hand, Sam moaned, lips parted breaths panting out. Suddenly intense pleasure sang through his body, making Sam tense, teeth clenched, back arched. "Holy fuck!" his hips bucking harder, pushing his ass back against his brother's fingers as moans and groans fell from his parted lips, face flushing.

"You ready for me?" Dean asked, brushing his mouth upward over Sam's back, to his neck.

"Mm, yeah," Sam answered, nodding, "Oh God, yeah..." he whispered breathlessly as his head fell back, exposing his long neck to Dean's lips.

"Thank God," Dean answered, moving his hand up and down Sam's side, then over his stomach, pulling him up against his erection. He rubbed against Sam's ass, kissing him and whispering hotly in his ear about how much he needed to be inside him, like his fingers, how much he wanted to hear Sam calling his name. Slowly, he pulled his fingers out but held Sam's cheek to one side as he aligned himself and started to push inside.

Sam gasped and grunted, tensing, his grip on the back of the loveseat tightening as he clenched his teeth. "Oh God..."

"It's alright Sammy... going slow... alright? Slow," he kept repeating as he pushed inside, moaning at how hot and tight his brother felt around him, fighting against the instinct to buck and thrust... and get instant satisfaction.

Sam nodded, lips parted as he panted his breaths, chest rising and falling with each. "Yeah... Mm...Oh God... feels different than.... the trunk." Sam panted, groaning softly. "So full, stretched," he mumbled softly, head falling back against Dean's shoulder. "Oh God..." he squeezed his eyes closed as he felt Dean push in more. "Burns..." Sam mumbled as his eyes blinked open.

"You're not as roomy as the Impala," Dean muttered, trying to get Sam's mind off the burning as he pushed hard, past the tight ring of muscle and found himself fully buried inside his brother. He held him tight, their bodies plastered together as he barely moved against him in slow, small motions. His hand slid up and down Sam's stomach, touching, caressing him, loving him. 

Sam gasped in a breath as Dean pushed fully into him. Panting out hot breaths as he hung his head,his hand slowly sliding over his cock, thumb circling the crown. Taking a deep breath Sam nodded, knowing Dean was waiting for him to tell him if he was alright. "Yeah, M'okay. I'm okay." Sam panted, face flushed, as he slowly thrust his hips, his cock into his hand, barely moving forward then back against his brother.

"Ungh..." the wave of pleasure that ran through Dean had him gripping Sam's hip and chest, holding him tight and unmoving until it passed, and he knew he could control the urge to fuck Sam hard. Leaning forward, he kissed the corner of Sam's mouth as he started to move his hips, undulating rather than pulling out, still exploring and learning how it felt to be inside his brother. 

Sam's lips moved in invitation to Dean's kiss, head tilted back and to the side. Feeling Dean start to move inside of him, Sam groaned, gasping in a breath as his head fell forward. He ran his hand faster over his hard flesh, stroking himself, squeezing, wrist pivoting. When Dean hit that same spot from before, Sam nearly fell fowarad, muscles tensing. "Nauugh..."

When his brother clenched around him, Dean groaned out his pleasure. Sam was like a tight glove around his cock, and Dean was damned sensitive to every movement, every drag of his cock inside Sam making him hotter, making him needier. "Sam..." it was the only warning he managed, before pulling mostly out and slamming back inside his brother's tight body, giving a strangled cry. "Good... oh God... good," he muttered, repeating and then starting to fuck Sam, each thrust a little harder, a little deeper.

When Dean slammed into him, Sam fell against the back of the love seat. "Ungh..." Pushing himself back slightly with the hand on the back of the love seat, Sam moaned thrusting his cock into his fist, then pushing back against his brother. "Oh... Gawwwd..." the words torn from Sam's throat on a long deep groan. Sucking air through his teeth Sam started to thrust harder, pushing back against Dean just as hard. "Oh God... Oh shit..."

"Yeah... hell yeah," Dean echoed, fucking Sam harder, kissing his shoulder, hands groping, pulling him closer each time he thrust. 

Sam moaned, thrusting harder, nearly grinding himself back on Dean, his fisted hand moving fast and hard over his cock, precum pearling, wetting the tip and the back of the loveseat as his body rocked with his and Dean's movements. "Oh God, Dean...."

Liquid heat rushed through Sam's veins, pooling low in his belly. This was better than he ever thought it would be, better than any image he'd jerked off to in his mind. Sam's motions start to become more erratic, as his balls drew up painfully tight. "Oh God, Deeean..." Sam groaned, muscles tensing, eyes squeezing closed as he grit his teeth.

Sam's wild motions kicked up Dean's lust, made him fuck harder, striving, climbing, wanting... needing to reach the peak, "oh... God... Sam, now," he growled, his teeth nipping Sam's shoulder at the exact moment he came hard and deep inside his brother, his body shuddering as he released.

Sam gasped, groaning long and loud as the first rope of cum shooting from his cock, wetting his hand. "Oh God, so good, Oh Dean... Shit..."

"Yeah baby... just like that... come just like that," he answered, leaning forward and watching Sam's face, loving the expression of sheer agony and pleasure, all for him. He pulled his brother close, held him tight as they moved against each other with less urgency and slowly calmed, though their breaths were still labored. "Sam?" He kissed him lightly, pulled out and slid down onto the sofa, pulling his brother down over his lap. 

If he wasn't so damn winded and if he hadn't just had his brother's dick in his ass, Sam probably would have said something about how odd this position was. Instead, he just tried to catch his breath as he looked at his brother, his clean hand slowly sliding down the back of Dean's head to rest on the back of the love seat behind him.

"You're my baby, too now." Dean kissed him once more. "In my harem. You two girls just try to ... get along, alright? There's enough of me to go around." 

Slowly Sam's face slid into one of his best bitch faces as he looked at his brother. _Harem? You girls?_ Reaching down toward the floor with his other hand, his gaze still locked with Dean's as he forced a very fake smile onto his face, Sam hooked a sock and didn't care whose it was. "Oh there's enough of somethin' alright," Sam told him, pulling his hand up, sock in tow and shoving it into his brother's mouth.

"Really, don't talk, you're ruining this for me," he huffed, rolling his eyes as he pulled Dean in with the arm he had around him. Sam smiled at his brother, sock stuffed in his mouth. "That's a good look for you." Sam chuckled, only to laugh harder at the look he got, wrapping his arm around his brother. "And I love you too, Dean," he laughed. 

THE END


End file.
